The Cat's Last Heist
by David Carner
Summary: A ChuckQuinn AU Production. FBI agent, and White Collar crimes specialist, Chuck Bartowski is obsessed with catching the Cat, a thief that little is known about. What is his obsession, their connection, and is anything at all what it seems? (For the love of God send help he won't let me not write this!) The newest steamy story you have come to expect form ChuckQuinn
1. Ch 1, The Plan

a/n: this is a ChuckQuinn production.

A/N2: Send help. Please. (He won't stop. I promised no new ones but he won't stop.)

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck

* * *

Chuck sat at his desk, looking through the plans of different security systems, trying to figure out where the weak point was in any of them. Word on the street was the Cat was about to strike again. He didn't know where or when, but he knew her. It was time, and this time he would be ready. Everyone was gone from the White Collar division for the night. Only he remained. There was no actual case, no actual leads, but Chuck knew her, and he knew she would strike soon. He had loosened his tie, unbuttoned a button on his shirt, and had rolled up his shirtsleeves. He picked up his coffee cup and found it empty. He sighed, pushed back in his chair, stood up, and walked to the break room.

He got his coffee, came back, and stopped, staring at his desk. Three folders were missing. He glanced around, saw nothing, but he felt it. He felt the eyes on him, he felt….her. He reached for his gun, when he was hit from behind, his gun flying across the room. He found himself pushed across the desk face first, and he felt her behind him, taking his arm and pinning him there.

"Hey, Curls," she all but purred. "Long time, no see." Her body pressed against his, forcing him against his desk. Her right hand had his wrenched behind him and her left had a handful of the afore mentioned curls. "You're letting it grow out?"

"Not that it's any business of yours, but yeah, I am," Chuck replied.

"Hmmm, woman left you?" she asked. She felt him tense. "Too straight laced, too…by the book? Trying to mix it up? I like it."

"Not that it's any of your business, but I'll have you know I've had no complaints in that department," Chuck spat.

"But have you had any compliments?" The question hung there, and he said nothing. "Well, let me give you one. Thank you for doing the research I needed. You are very….thorough. Are you that….thorough, in everything you do?" She heard Chuck swallow. "I always enjoy the chase, although I am curious to see what you would do if you ever catch me."

"I would lock you up," Chuck replied.

"I bet you would, Slugger," she purred.

"NOT LIKE THAT!" Chuck blurted, flustered by her, as usual. "Why do you have to make everything…dirty?"

"Name of my sex tape," she replied. She reached into her pouch, pulled out a rag and placed it to his face. "Sleepy time, Curls. Think about me while you dream." She let his limp body go, gently. She smiled toward him, turned and headed toward the elevator.

She stood there, waiting for the elevator, and then…she felt it…him! She tried to move, but he slammed against her, pinning her against the elevator doors. "Oooo, so that's how you like it! Lucky girl!"

"Can you shut up for one minute!" he barked. He managed to get her wrists behind her to cuff her.

"Maybe I've misjudged you, Curls. You bring your own handcuffs where ever you go?" She heard the choking sound, as he spun her and slammed her against the door.

"That's it, I'm unmasking you now, what do you think of that?" he asked, pulling the mask off and seeing her smiling face, her teasing blue eyes, her blond hair with what Chuck would call a flirty curl if he was forced to. She was running her tongue against her lip.

"Like what you see? I think you cut my lip…you kinky, curly, G-Man," she said with a wink. Her knee came up quickly, hitting him in the groin, and Chuck hit the ground. She slid down the door, hitting the ground, fell over to her side, and lifted her butt. She brought her hands forward and moved her legs out of the way, bringing her cuffed wrists in front of her. She reached down, and got the key, as Chuck groaned. She undid the cuffs, grabbed her mask, put it on, and entered the elevator car as she turned to him. "I'm keeping the cuffs as a keep sake. To remind me of the first time you tried to cuff me up." She bent her fingers in a wave as the door shut, leaving Chuck lying there.

}o{

"It seems that the camera was down in front of the elevator," Graham said to Chuck a little while later. "The only time we got her on camera was when she assaulted you on your desk and when she got on the elevator. She was masked in everything we have on her." Chuck nodded. "What did she look like?"

"Red hair, green eyes, freckled," Chuck replied. "But I took in enough of the gas to make me loopy."

Graham nodded. "Go home. Get some rest. You need it."

"Sir," Chuck began.

"Go." Chuck nodded and left Graham's office. Graham watched him go.

}o{

Chuck entered his apartment, dropped the keys on the table beside the door, and shut the door behind him, locking it. He removed his tie, threw his overcoat on a nearby chair, and headed toward the bedroom. He showered, dressed, then wandered into the kitchen to find something to eat. Finding nothing he liked, he shut the refrigerator door. He went back into the bedroom and crawled into bed. He had shut his eyes when he felt it.

"Does wearing that suit get you so worked up?" he asked the room that appeared to be empty. "You do know there's no audio, right?"

"Listen, the Cat is known to have a certain flirty way about her," she responded.

"HA!" he laughed, sitting up, not seeing her. "I told you about Pete's and Black Cat flirting, and Catwoman and Batman. That's why the Cat is the way she is."

"Hmmmm, maybe," she conceded. "Did you describe me?"

"I described Carina to a tee," Chuck responded. "And was she out and about?"

"Oh, yeah," she replied, pouncing on him, trapping him under the covers. She sat up and slowly began to unzip the cat suit. "She was at the clubs then, now, and will be all night."

"So, you're protected?" Chuck asked, his face serious. She shook her head, a grin on her face. "Sarah. You know what I mean!"

"It's done, Chuck. I have the plans, I only have to steal the painting, and I'm in the cartel," Sarah replied, as she slowly unzipped her zipper. It went to the swell of her breasts, and then stopped. She reached behind her and held up the cuffs with one finger. "Now, what do we do about these?" Chuck lost the ability to talk.

* * *

a/n: Thanks for reading.


	2. Ch 2, The First Meeting

a/n: this is a ChuckQuinn production.

A/N2: Okay, since ChuckQuinn is a poophead, let me explain somethings. This is a play on CATS. Some of you have ideas, I'm pretty sure they're all wrong. Some of you have other ideas, they may be wrong too. Give me a chapter or two (or three or four) to get the backstory laid out and then I think we'll all be on the same page.

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck.

* * *

Sunlight was starting to peek through the curtains as Sarah exited the bathroom, draped in her towel. She looked over at the bed, and saw Chuck, still out cold. She grinned and shook her head, turning back to the mirror. What could she say? Being around him after a successful heist led to all sorts of pilfering….good God. She was making bad sex jokes. She had been married to him for way too long. She turned around and gazed at him….and yet…she knew she could never be married to him long enough. A smile covered her face, and she thought about crawling back in bed with him for some more breaking and entering….and that's when she knew she had to get her cover identity on…the Ice Queen.

They were supposed to be past this…they would have been…she stopped putting on her make-up, and sighed. He was right, they had to do this, knowing what it meant for them. But at the same time, it was killing her. The mask had almost been off. The last heist was supposed to have already happened, but again, they got sucked back in. She turned, rested her hip against the sink, and just watched him. She shouldn't be surprised. It's the way their relationship had always been. But she'd be damned if it was the way their relationship would always be. She sighed. She really wanted to get back in bed with him. A smile ghosted her lips.

}o{

Four years ago

"He's awful young to be leading this division," Lester groused.

"Graduated college in two years, tops in his class at Quantico," Jeff replied. "The guy's a genius. And besides, we keep getting fooled by the Cartel. Why not give the guy a chance?"

"I should have that job," Lester insisted.

"You did," Chuck said, walking by. "I believe someone higher up than I said, and I quote: 'I've never seen such incompetence in my life, how in the hell is he an FBI agent?' Although I could have misquoted."

"No, that's exactly what was said," Jeff interjected, defending Chuck.

"I still think there must be a teleportation beam involved," Lester muttered.

Chuck's eyes went wide. He pressed his lips together, and blew out his cheeks. "Yeah….I've not seen any evidence of that."

"So, you're not saying I'm wrong?" Lester asked, hope building inside of him.

"Go with that," Chuck replied, shaking his head and walking over to the crime scene. He stood there, studying it. Trying to find anything to give him the first clue how the painting was stolen.

"She's here," he heard Lester whisper in reverence.

"Who?" Chuck asked at a normal tone.

"Keep your voice down," Lester hissed. Chuck looked over at him, an eyebrow raised. "The Ice Queen is here."

"Oh," Chuck replied, looking back at the crime scene. He was getting a nagging feeling, looking at the frame of the painting. He bent down and looked at the ground, looking for anything.

"Find anything?" he heard a female, melodic voice say behind him. He stood, turned, and used every bit of his training to hold his jaw in place. Before him stood the woman Chuck assumed Lester called the Ice Queen. She was in a traditional dark blue jacket and skirt combo. She wore glasses, and her hair was up. She looked stunning, but that wasn't what made him pause in his tracks. Her eyes captured his, and he saw something in those eyes, something that he longed to know. He couldn't stop the slow smile that grew on his face as his lips pulled back from his teeth.

"I think I have," he said softly.

She raised an eyebrow. "And?"

He realized he was on the spot, and shook his head, pulling his thoughts together. "Sorry… there's nothing here."

"But I thought you said you found something." The smirk came to his face before he could stop it. "Are you trying to give me a line? This is a crime scene."

He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "I was saying the lack of evidence is evidence itself, is it not?" She continued to stare at him. "And no, I'm sure you've had many lines thrown at you in life. I wouldn't say something like, _I had nothing until you walked into the room_." Chuck thought he saw her flinch. "I wouldn't do that to you, unless we were closer…much closer."

Her eyes narrowed. "Is that a line?"

"If you have to ask, it's probably not, is it?" Her eyes narrowed further. "Painting wasn't stolen here." Her eyes widened. "There is no trace of fibers. Regardless of how sharp a blade, how professional, there would be…something."

"Then how was it stolen?" she asked.

"Well, since I don't officially know who you are, I can't give you that information," Chuck replied, sticking his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels.

She crossed her arms and stared at him, and Chuck just grinned. "Sarah Walker," she finally said.

"Chuck Bartowski," Chuck replied, the grin growing.

"I am a specialist hired by the FBI to assist in these white-collar crimes, especially any that might have anything to do with the Cartel," Sarah told him reluctantly. "You can check with Graham, but I'm yours."

Chuck's lips twitched and she rolled her eyes. "Hey you said it, not me," Chuck replied. He held out his hand. "So, partners?"

Sarah nodded and took his hand into hers and shook it. "Partners," she replied, as she thought electricity might shoot out of her arm where he touched her.

}o{

Now

Sarah was pulled out of her thoughts by a set of lips on her neck. "Chuck, don't, we'll be late."

"And the Ice Queen is never late," Chuck said, kissing his way up her neck, and attaching his lips to her earlobe.

"God, you have got to stop," she said, twirling and pushing him away, a regretful look on her face. "When we finish this, I swear to God, I'm going to make it up to you."

"Make what up to me, Sarah?" Chuck asked, a look on his face that nearly melted her. "We're together here. That's all that matters."

"Chuck, they think-"

"I don't give a shit what they think," Chuck replied. "I care about what we really are." Sarah grinned and walked toward him. "Don't do that, we'll be late, and you cannot be late."

"We could take a shower together, it will save time," she replied, letting the towel fall. Chuck glanced up and down her body as she cocked her head to the side as if to challenge him.

"I don't think your math is right, but I'm willing to risk it," he said, as she pulled him into the bathroom.

* * *

a/n: Thanks for reading.


	3. Ch 3, Perceptions

a/n: this is a ChuckQuinn production.

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck.

* * *

Chuck stepped off the elevator and was headed toward his desk, when Sarah stopped him.

"You're late," she growled, glaring at him.

"Well, I was working late last night," Chuck replied. "Or did you notice that when you went to bed?"

"No," Sarah replied. They heard the hiss behind him of Lester. Chuck's face twitched. "Graham needs to see you. I have a lead to show you later, when you have time." With that, she turned and walked away.

"Dude, she's hot, but is she worth all of that?" Lester asked, walking up beside him.

"Lester, go away. I need to talk to Agent Bartowski about these files," Morgan said, walking up to them. Lester left, shaking his head. Morgan looked around and lowered his voice. "Dude, I get what you're doing, but is it worth it?"

Chuck looked at his best friend and smiled. Morgan shook his head, grinning.

"Absolutely," Chuck said, just as softly.

}o{

Four years earlier

"So where do they put them?" Chuck asked her. Her face, which had been mostly stone-y their entire conversation, had a look of amusement on it. "You know, where they work on the paintings."

"What are you trying to say?" she asked him, curious.

"It wasn't stolen here," Chuck said with confidence. "It wasn't stolen there, either, because of security, so it had to be done somewhere along the way." Sarah stared at him. "But you already knew that."

"Why would I already know that?" she retorted.

"Now that's the real question, isn't it," he said. He didn't mean it as anything, but she froze. She stiffened for just a second, and he knew he had hit upon something…something she didn't want anyone to know. "And it's really none of my business," he added softly. Her face softened just for an instant, and in that instant, he knew this was all a mask. The coldness, the iciness, the aloofness. She was as warm and as caring as he was, but she was hiding it. Why, he didn't know, but he also knew something else in that moment: If he tried to find out, tried to press, he never would know.

"How?" she asked softly. She cleared her throat. "How do you think it was done?"

"I think the entire painting was switched," Chuck replied. "I bet if you check that frame, it isn't the one that originally held the painting." Sarah looked at the frame, and back to him. The smallest smile was on her face, and she was lightly nodding. "With the painting gone, no one has paid the least amount of attention to the frame. Except you," he added.

"You are good," she said softly.

Chuck grinned, and decided to chance it. "I suspect nowhere as good as you, though." She turned to him. "Now, how about we find out where that painting was stored, and walk all the different paths to get here. Unless you happen to know which path might be the easiest to access through the loading dock."

"It just so happens I do," she replied. "Follow me?"

"Anywhere," Chuck replied. The stony mask had slipped back on her face, but he knew he had gotten to her. And he knew he would follow her anywhere.

}o{

Now

Amy ran up to Chuck, breaking up his and Morgan's discussion. "Chuck, he really wants to see you," Amy stressed.

"Got it," Chuck said, heading toward Graham's office. Graham was the assistant director of the FBI for Los Angeles. His executive office was upstairs, but everyone knew he kept an office in the white-collar division to get things done. No one bothered him while he was in this office, unless they were summoned. As they walked by Sarah's desk the two women glared at each other. "Stop it," Chuck said, not sure which of the two he was talking to.

"Chuck," Amy began.

"Amy, I am happily married," Chuck retorted.

"Who do you think you're fooling?" Amy asked, a glint in her eye. "She's using you, and I promise, she wouldn't care what we did. Besides, it might even solve some of you two's….problems." Chuck looked at her, and she was appearing to be as innocent as could be.

"Amy, enough," Chuck insisted. "I am married."

"I blew my chance way back when, didn't I?" Amy asked.

"Amy, this helps no one."

"I get it," she said handing him folders. She walked off, and Chuck knocked on the door. He heard Graham's voice telling him to come in, and he did.

"Shut it," Graham said. Chuck did, and came over to sit in front of him. Graham picked up a folder and laid it down in front of him. It was extremely thin. That meant there were few to no leads.

"Zondra is recovering from her attack." Chuck continued to stare straight at the assistant director. "There is no evidence to support the idea that this attack was perpetrated by the Cartel." Chuck remained silent. Graham looked away for a minute and then back to Chuck. "Do you seriously expect me to believe that Carina was behind your attack last night?"

"I never said Carina, Boss," Chuck said, his face a mask. Sarah had taught him soooooo many things. That thought almost made the mask slip.

"Damn it, Bartowski, why?" he asked, slamming his hand down on the desk. "You two are free."

"You know exactly why," Chuck replied. Graham's shoulders slumped. "Besides, with or without me, this is how it was going to play out."

Graham sighed, and turned toward his computer. He paused. "When I submit this, there is no turning back."

"I believe you said the same thing to me nearly four years ago," Chuck replied, letting the mask fall, and the grin cover his face.

Graham chuckled. "I knew what I was getting into with you two back then, and I still went ahead with it."

"It was your idea," Chuck reminded him.

"Be careful," he said softly. "You don't know who to trust." Chuck looked up and saw Sarah walk by the office window, and she winked at him. Chuck looked back at Graham.

"Or maybe you know exactly who to trust."

* * *

a/n: Thanks for reading.


	4. Ch 4, Dinner

a/n: this is a ChuckQuinn production

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck

* * *

Chuck stepped out of Graham's office and was met by Lester. "So, Charles, I hear you had a little scuffle with the Cat last night?" Chuck walked past him as Lester followed. Not to be deterred Lester hurried after him. "Is she as beautiful as they say? As…lithe?"

"I was too busy fighting with her to notice," Chuck replied.

"Notice what?" Sarah asked, her Ice Queen demeanor firmly in place.

"Our fair leader tangled with the Cat last night," Lester informed Sarah. "Did he not tell you?"

"No, he didn't," Sarah retorted, staring at Chuck. Lester shivered. "It's unfortunate."

"It is?" Lester asked, thinking maybe the two of them might be defrosting toward each other.

"Yes, we both know I had a chance of finding her," she said tersely, turning and walking off, her heels clicking on the floor. "Don't forget I still need to see you AGENT Bartowski!" She called over her shoulder, never turning toward him. The door to her office slammed, making them both flinch.

"How are you married to her?" Lester asked.

"Would you ask for a divorce?" Chuck retorted. Lester fled. Chuck sighed, and headed for Sarah's office. He opened her door without knocking.

She looked up at him, anger on her face. "Why do you get an office if I am the head of this division?" he asked.

"Because I'm the specialist," she spat out as she stood, walked to the door, and slammed it. Everyone nearby jumped. She pulled the blinds and turned to him. "And, I get to pull a certain agent in here every so often and have my way with him," she said softly, a smirk on her face as she took off her fake glasses.

"I was injured in the line of duty last night. Someone kneed me in the groin," he retorted, grinning at her.

"Two things: First, I had to make it look real," she began.

"Trust me, it was real," Chuck muttered.

She smiled at him, and wrapped her arms around him. "Second, I'm pretty sure I apologized, numerous times."

"I thought I was going to die of dehydration from all the apologizing," Chuck replied, his lips nearly touching hers.

"After this is over, we are going to stop doing this stupid shit," Sarah said.

"Agreed, now what information do you have for me?"

"I'm in love with my husband and really want him, right here on this desk," Sarah said softly. Chuck gulped. "But we can't do that, so, I was thinking a bit of a make out session, and I'll take care of the rest tonight, after my mission."

"Tonight?" Chuck groaned.

"Sorry, Baby, but tonight is the best night," she replied, a slight pout on her lips. "Carina and I are going 'dancing' later."

"Got it," Chuck replied. "Now about that make out session?" Sarah grinned, grabbed the front of his shirt, and pulled him in for a searing kiss.

}o{

Four years ago

"Here," Chuck said, looking down at a door frame, seeing the slightest scuffing. "They probably turned the cart too tightly." Sarah crouched and looked, stood, and studied her partner.

"Not bad, Agent Bartowski," she said. She led him toward the docks. They both looked around. "There," they both said at the same time, pointing toward a camera. Sarah straightened. "Not bad at all."

}o{

Later that day found the two of them at Chuck's desk going through the footage of the truck, when Chuck saw Graham head to his office. He excused himself and hurried after him. "Graham," he said, getting his boss's attention. Graham turned around. "What are the chances of getting Agent Walker permanently assigned to my team?"

Graham studied Chuck for a moment. "Why?"

"Why?" Chuck asked, confused. "She's an art expert, something your White-Collar division desperately needs. Jeff is currently considered the expert." Graham winced at that. "Plus, she's good. I mean really good. We need her help catching the Cartel."

Graham was silent for a second. "She's not an actual agent."

"I don't care who or what she is, she does the job well."

"Is that the only reason, Mr. Bartowski?" Graham asked. Chuck grinned at his boss.

"She intrigues me," Chuck admitted. "But you know I would never make this request for that reason."

"I do," Graham admitted. "I'll think about it," he began, holding up his hand. "I suspect the answer will be no, but she will be here for some time. Make use of that time together, professionally. If I see she is valuable, I'll reassess."

"Fair enough," Chuck replied. He headed back to Sarah.

"Found it," she said, as he walked up. Chuck watched as she paused the video, got a copy of the license plate, and found the address. "Care to join me?"

"It would be my honor," Chuck replied.

}o{

Several hours later found them at an all-night diner. "This is a bad idea," Sarah said, taking a bite of her pie, and nearly moaning.

"Wow, I mean it's not like I asked you out on a date," Chuck said, his eyes twinkling. "All I said was neither of has eaten, and do you want to grab a bite. I meant as colleagues." He smiled and leaned forward toward her. "Unless of course, you wanted it to be more."

"I mean eating at 11:30 at night and giving ourselves heartburn," Sarah retorted. Chuck's shoulders shook at the quiet laugh. "But go on with what you were saying."

"You are a mystery, wrapped inside an enigma, Sarah Walker," Chuck replied. "At work, you are super serious, and live up to your reputation."

"The 'Ice Queen'?"

"I just said reputation, you put a name on it," Chuck retorted. Sarah stuck her tongue out at him. "There," he said pointing, and she giggled. "There's a reason you seem to be one thing, and are something else around me."

"Because I can't keep the charade up around you," Sarah replied. "Chuck," she said, and then paused.

"Whatever it is, I'll keep quiet, it's between us."

Sarah studied him a moment. "Do you have a way of searching for something, and not being traced?"

He gave her a flat look. "Obviously, my skills are not as far and widely known as I thought."

"Fine, here's the deal, I'm going to give you a name. I'm tired of being tired and lonely. I have no one, and once you see…well, you'll understand. If you decide to talk to me after that, if you decide to associate with me…it's up to you."

"Did you eat someone?" Chuck asked.

Sarah gave him a look. "Naeiou," she replied.

Chuck nodded. "Okay, deal."

"Chuck…." She sighed. "Well, this was fun."

"It was, and we'll do it again tomorrow," Chuck replied.

"No, we won't, you won't want to," Sarah explained. "I trust you to keep what you find to yourself." Chuck gave her a look and she gave him a sad smile. She took his hand. "Jenny Burton," she said softly. "You will keep it too yourself, right?"

"Yes," Chuck replied. "And, tomorrow, I'll meet you here for dinner."

"No, you won't," she said softly. She stood up, kissed his cheek, and walked out of the diner.

"Well, see about that," Chuck muttered to himself.

* * *

a/n: Thanks for reading.


	5. Ch 5 The Locked Apartment

a/n: this is a ChuckQuinn production

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck

* * *

_Four Years ago_

Chuck sat down at his home computer, cracked his knuckles, and began. "Jenny Burton, where are you…who are you?" He began to search, deep on the web, and found quite a few things. "You are a bad girl, Jenny," Chuck said to himself. He colored a little in the cheeks, looked around to make sure he was alone, and that gave him an idea. "So bad…."

}o{

The next morning Chuck entered the office, and grinned when he saw Sarah.

"Mr. Bartowski," she said by way of greeting.

"Yeesh, she is the Ice Queen," Lester said. He looked from Chuck to Sarah. "Did I not use my inside voice?" He immediately fled.

"How does he even work here?" Sarah asked.

"NO idea," Chuck replied. "Any news on our bust last night?"

Sarah handed him a file, and he flipped through it, grinning. "Well, we busted up one of the smaller rings in town. That will hurt the cartel."

"Is that your goal? To take them down?" Sarah asked him.

"One of my goals," Chuck replied, peering over the edge of the folder at her. She squirmed for a split second. "Excuse me a moment, I need to say something to Morgan." She started to walk off. "Don't," he said softly. "I may need your help as well."

She lifted an eyebrow but stayed, intrigued. "Okay."

"Hey, Morgan," Chuck said, getting the beard's attention. Morgan walked over to him. "I was thinking of making a little celebration meal for myself, tonight."

"Oh ho ho," Morgan replied. "Yourself, and someone?" he asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively. He looked over and saw Sarah. "Ahem, sorry. Do go on."

"Oh, the only way someone can join me is if they can figure out how to get into my locked apartment," Chuck replied, watching Sarah as he spoke. A hint of a smile played on her face. "Now, I thought I'd have pasta, sauce, the whole nine yards, but I also would like to have some pie." Her upper lip twitched. "Do you recommend ala mode?"

"Oooo," Morgan replied. "I'm guessing apple?" Chuck nodded. Sarah twisted her lips out of the sight of Morgan. "I think a simple vanilla would do nicely."

Chuck turned to Sarah. "Simple vanilla bean, or would you go….French?" Sarah's eyes never left his, but she could not stop the ghost of the smile on her lips.

"Oh, French," she replied softly. "Always go with French. Do you often eat alone?"

"I have trouble trusting people, and letting them in," Chuck replied. Morgan looked from one to the other, confused. It was like they were talking about one thing, but really talking about another. He wandered off, confused.

"Wanting someone to break into your heart?" she asked.

"It would take a master to do that, someone with skills….amazing skills. I'm not sure anyone's found me worth it yet," Chuck finished.

She stood there quietly for a moment. "Who knows," Sarah replied. "Sometimes the person you least expect, may be the one you need most. But you have to look past that person's faults."

"We all have faults, and it's how we correct our mistakes and what we do going forward that matter the most," Chuck replied softly.

"That's…..not a position a lot of people would take," Sarah said, a little breathlessly.

"I have many positions, Miss Walker," Chuck replied, bouncing his eyebrows and walking off. Sarah stood there a moment, scared her knees would give out on her.

}o{

Chuck stood quietly by the stove, stirring his sauce. "You know, a girl could get used to this," he heard her voice behind him, surprising him. He turned, and there she was. "I wasn't sure of the dress for this occasion," she admitted. Chuck tried not to look her up and down, but when Sarah Walker is dressed in a skin tight catsuit, it's hard not to.

"Good Lord," he choked out.

"For the record, is this about seducing me?" she asked.

"What? NO!" Chuck replied. "No, not at all. I mean…I'm not opposed to….no." Chuck was quite flustered. Sarah's grin set him at ease. "Damn it," he said softly, shaking his head. "Sarah Walker is a prankster."

"Maybe," she said, walking past him, dragging her finger along his chest. She took that finger and dipped it into the sauce. Looking him in the eye, she tasted it, making a popping sound as she pulled it from her mouth. "That was for the positions crack earlier today." She walked over to the table and sat down.

"Uh…would you like to borrow some clothes, something more comfortable? I mean, I would hate for you to stain that…it probably washes right off, doesn't it," he stammered. Sarah sat there, looking like the cat who had eaten all of the cream.

"You're kind of adorable, you know…" Chuck had no response for that. She walked over to the window, picked up a bag he hadn't noticed, and pointed toward his bedroom in an unspoken question. He tried to speak, but words had failed him by this point, so he nodded his head….a lot. She let out a wet giggle and entered his room.

Chuck turned back to the stove. "Whatever you do, don't think about her changing clothes in there," he murmured to himself. He cleared his throat. "Thank you for joining me tonight," he called out. Picking up the pan, he poured it into a dish, then turned, seeing her head poking out of the doorway staring at him.

"Are you for real?" she asked.

"What?"

She disappeared for a second, then walked out in jeans and a blue top. Chuck didn't have a clue how fast she had changed clothes. "You figure it all out, and you still treat me like….a human being."

"You accused me of just wanting the sex earlier," Chuck retorted.

"The sex?" she asked. Chuck started to respond. "I think I liked it better when I was in the catsuit, and you didn't have the ability to speak." Chuck gave her a flat look. She chuckled, then continued, "Chuck, this is me. This is my personality."

"And so, no one knows that you are Jenny Burton, daughter of the world-famous cat burglar, Jack Burton, that was captured in France-"

"It is such a beautiful city," she replied, shrugging.

"Sarah Walker is as cold as ice," Chuck finished. Sarah nodded. "I have to know one thing." She sat there quietly, nodding for him to continue. "When this is over, are you going to go back to being a cat burglar?"

"No," Sarah replied. "I thought it was all I know, but I've learned I know a lot more."

"How are you here, that's the one thing I couldn't figure out."

"Dad will be free in four years, if I work for the FBI," Sarah replied. "The French police really want the Cartel."

"So, they are working in both cities!" Sarah nodded.

"You have a mole in the FBI, Chuck," Sarah said softly. "I'm here to help try and figure out who it is."

"There's more isn't there?" he asked. She grinned at him. "What do I have to do to get it out of you?"

The grin turned absolutely salacious. "Start with feeding me, and we'll go from there."

"Promises, promises," he replied, making her arch an eyebrow at him.

* * *

a/n: Thanks for reading


	6. Ch 6, The Setup

a/n: this is a ChuckQuinn production

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck

* * *

_Today_

She pushed him away gently, her eyes dancing. "Now, now, we go any further and our cover will be discovered."

Chuck sighed. "We can't have that," he said with a grin. She had a sorrowful look on her face. He reached over and tenderly cupped her face. "Hey, I mean it, we can't have that. There's too much riding on this."

She put her hand over his, relishing the feeling. "I know baby, but it makes you look…."

"But we know the truth, so who cares," Chuck replied, honesty written on his face.

"You need to get out of here before I completely blow our cover."

"See, that's not the threat you think it is," Chuck said, grinning. He stopped at the door and sobered his face. He looked over at Sarah, who had the mask in place. He paused, grinned, and whispered, "I see right through you." The mask fell, and she softened. Chuck could see the love for him written all over her. He winked, rattled the doorknob, and she pulled her mask back up. "Thank you," Chuck said as he exited the door. There stood Amy and Lester, pretending not to listen. He paused, gulped and turned back to her. "So, I was thinking maybe tonight we could go out to eat."

"No," she replied curtly. "Carina and I have plans to go dancing."

His face hardened. "And you just now remembered?" he offered.

"No, I hadn't seen the need to tell you," and with that she shut her door. Chuck turned, and Lester and Amy whipped around like they hadn't just witnessed that. Sarah's door opened again, and Chuck spun around, hope on his face. Sarah placed a file in his hands. "You forgot this."

"Sarah," he said, making her pause before she shut the door. "I do hate to eat alone," he said softly, in an almost begging tone. She straightened and stared at him. Most men would have withered under that stare, but Chuck refused to back down.

"I'll have dinner with you, Chuck, my treat," Amy said.

Sarah gave a slight head quirk. "Looks like you have someone to eat with," she said, and with that, the door shut.

"I'm sorry, Chuck," he heard Amy say. He turned toward her. "I shouldn't have. I know she's your wife, but…Chuck…"

"You know what…" Chuck took a deep breath. "Let's do it."

"Yeah?" she asked. Chuck nodded. "I know which club they frequent." She gave him a long look.

"Okay," he said softly. He watched her walk away. Chuck looked up, and saw Graham standing at his window. Graham gave the briefest of head nods. Chuck returned it, and headed for his desk.

}o{

"How many guys is she going to dance with?" he groused under his breath.

"Maybe you should go dance with me," Amy offered.

Chuck sighed and pulled his gaze off Sarah and Carina and turned to Amy. "Listen, I shouldn't have done this with you. Nothing is ever going to happen with us. I'm married."

Amy looked out onto the floor at Sarah. "Has anyone told her that?" She turned back to Chuck. "Chuck, she used you to be stationed here. She loves LA, the food, the parties, the scene. What she doesn't love, is you."

"We have something," Chuck countered.

"Maybe you did, maybe she played you, but here's what I know; a woman who loves you wouldn't let other guys dance with them like that."

Chuck turned toward Sarah and Carina, and watched them head toward the bar.

}o{

Carina leaned in to tell Sarah a joke. "How's the situation with the date, because if we don't get Blondie out of here soon, she's going to kill the next guy that touches her ass."

"They are primed," the voice replied. "The heist is currently going down, and if I may, Carina, you look especially lovely tonight."

"I'm not replying to that," Carina muttered. Sarah burst out laughing. They both had earwigs, but the music was so loud the only way they could communicate with their overwatch was to mimic whispering into each other's ears. It was something easy to pull off, since almost everyone on the dance floor had to so the same thing.

"Ladies, it's time to leave," the voice came over their ear. "Make it look good."

}o{

Chuck watched as two men approached Sarah and Carina. They talked for a few minutes and Chuck could tell they were getting ready to leave with them. That was when both Amy's and Chuck's phones went off. They both pulled their devices out.

"How?" Amy muttered. She looked over to Sarah and Carina.

Chuck got up. "Sorry, I need to go get Sarah."

"Chuck," Amy began.

"Listen, she has to be at the crime scene, or else she'll get in trouble." Amy shook her head and took off. Chuck turned and walked toward the foursome. He stopped right in front of them.

"Well," the tall, muscular man said to him.

Chuck grinned. "It was Awesome."

"Dude, Ellie will kill you if she knew you were still calling me that," Awesome answered. He turned to the other man. "Told 'ya it would work."

"It did, what can I say?" came the English-accented response.

"Devon, Cole, thank you," Chuck said simply. He turned to Sarah. "Now we have a crime scene to investigate." Sarah nodded, and they headed toward the entrance. Chuck leaned toward her ear. "Thanks, Morgs."

"Anytime, Buddy," came the response into Sarah's ear.

}o{

"It's the Cat," Jeff told Chuck. "We have video of her." Chuck took the tablet and watched the Cat take out the guard, and deftly take the artifact she was after.

"She's impressive," Sarah added, watching from beside him.

Chuck looked over at her. "Listen, we need to talk about tonight," he began.

"No, we need to solve this case," Sarah replied, walking away.

Chuck stood there, shoulders slumped. He felt someone walk up beside him. "She's leaving, she had her phone pulled out," came the low voice. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Chuck said, looking up into the concerned eyes looking back at him. "Why are you here?"

"It was your wife's idea," came the smiling reply. "We gotta sell it to the mole that none of the three of us can be the Cat."

"You know what I don't understand?" Chuck asked softly. "How it never occurred to any of them that you all three could be the Cat."

"Probably because it was partially your genius idea," Zondra replied. "You ready to bring down the Cartel, Curls?"

Chuck looked over at Sarah, who was trying to ignore him, but sent him the barest flash of a smile. "I'm sooooo ready."

Zondra looked at Chuck and then over to Sarah, shaking her head. "And then this shit ends, and you two never put yourself through it again." Zondra started to walk off but stopped as Chuck's hand was wrapped around her wrist.

"This was both of our decision," Chuck said softly. "We made this choice."

"For me," Zondra replied.

"For our friend."

* * *

A/N: Figured it all out yet? Thanks for reading.


	7. Ch 7, The Cover

a/n: This is a chuckquinn production

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck.

* * *

_Four years ago_

Sarah sat back in her chair, took her glass of wine, and swirled it around in the glass. She studied the man across from her. He hadn't balked at anything he learned; if anything, he became more intrigued. But he didn't know it all. Not yet. "If I eat one more bite, I wouldn't fit in that Cat suit. Is that what you're after… Chuck?"

She watched him swallow. "I… I feel however I answer that question, you'll use it against me," he said, carefully picking his words.

"You'd like it," she replied, quickly.

"Yeah, I would… I do…" he admitted, shrugging, an effusive grin on his face. "So, is that something you want to do?" She raised an eyebrow. "Get out of that cat suit?" His eyes widened as he realized what he had just said. "I mean, why are you in it?" He shook his eyes, mortified with what he was saying. "Please stop me, I can't fit any more of my foot or leg into my mouth."

"You're adorable," she said, watching him with a grin on her face, like the cat who had gotten all the cream. "Before we talk about me getting out of that suit, or you getting out of your suit," she paused, watching his eyes widen. She realized she could easily get used to a lifetime of all of this. "There is more to my story. I had to get approval to let you know, but once I asked, it was not only approved, but recommended." She leaned forward. "Chuck, what I'm about to tell you… it's going to affect the lives of others, so if I tell you, I have to trust you. With my life, and if you want… more."

"More?" he asked, an eyebrow raised.

She picked up her glass and drained it, never breaking eye contact. She sat the glass down, still looking at him. "More," she said. It was the most sultry word Chuck had ever heard in his life.

"More is good," he muttered. "More is _sooooo_ good."

"You have no idea," she said softly, got up, and went to the bathroom.

Chuck sat there for a minute, frozen to his chair. "I need to do dishes, something," he muttered. "I gotta do something." He got up and began to collect plates. As he was putting them in the sink to soak, two hands snaked around him and felt his chest.

"Is that really what you want to do?" she nearly purred. Chuck thought his body was going to melt, and pool onto the floor.

"Until I hear everything you told me… that… well… No," he said spinning, watching those mischievous eyes and her smile that made him weak in the knees. "No, there are many other things I would like to do with you." He took a deep breath. "I could sit and listen to you talk for hours." Her eyes lit up. "I could simply sit beside you and watch TV. I could…dare I say, hold your hand."

"Chuck…you are an absolute perfect gentleman," she said wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling herself close.

"Gosh it's warm in here," he muttered.

"But, see, the things I was thinking of weren't nearly so ladylike," she admitted. "I was wondering if you'd like to make love to me?"

"YEP, I CAN DO THAT TOO!" he said, trying to keep himself under control. "But… but wait," he said, trying to make some distance between them. "I thought you said there was more I needed to hear?"

"There is, but I'm trusting you… Chuck." He knew he'd pretty much do anything she'd ever ask him, keep any secret. He knew, and she knew that he knew. He leaned down and kissed her. It started out slow, but when his tongue swept against hers, it became urgent, desperate, and needy. He felt his tie being loosened, and he hated himself for what he was about to do. But he needed to, for her sake.

He grabbed her hands, stopping her, surprising her. "Listen," he said softly, somewhat disentangling himself from her. "We need to not do this, because if we do and then you tell me, for the rest of your life you'll question it. You'll question if I'm with you only because I felt I HAD to be, not because I want to be." He reached down, took her chin with his cupped forefinger, and lifted her head until their eyes were locked. "Sarah Walker, I want you to know how much I WANT to be with you."

"I'm pretty sure I know," she said a little breathlessly. She stepped back. "I don't want to do that, but if I don't… I don't trust me."

"I don't trust me with you," Chuck admitted. Sarah gave him a smirk. "I don't even care that you know that."

"I really like that you can tell me that, Chuck. I _really_ like it." Chuck gulped visibly. "Come on, we have somewhere to go." She walked over, grabbed her bag, and turned. "I'm gonna be honest, I hope I get to bring this bag back later." With that she sauntered over to the door, unlocked it, and walked out. Chuck realized he was still standing there.

"Me too," he muttered to himself.

}o{

Chuck flipped through the file the second time, closed it, and pushed it back over to Graham. "So, let me get this straight," Chuck began. "The reason I can't catch the Cat, is because A) you keep making sure I don't…." …Graham smirked over that… "…and B.) she's always a different person?" Graham nodded.

"Sarah, Carina, and Zondra are all the Cat," Graham admitted. "And here's what I'm thinking: Sarah really needs a cover…"

}o{

Chuck left Graham's office, his coat over his arm. Sarah had waited outside the entire time. "He told you the plan," Sarah said, not asked. Chuck nodded.

"I don't like it," Chuck began.

"I don't like treating you that way in public," Sarah admitted. Chuck gave her a look. "What?"

"I was talking about how we have to create a cover," Chuck replied. "I feel like you're forced."

Sarah shrugged and grinned. "So, I was thinking we're both professionals."

"Careful, that makes us sound like…." He shook his head.

"You really are adorable," she said, smiling at him. "We have to 'pretend' like we're falling in love."

"I can't pretend," Chuck said softly. Sarah's eyes went wide. He took two steps, and swept her up in his arms for a kiss. When he pulled apart, he looked her right in the eyes. "Pretty sure I already am."

* * *

A/N: Are we all on the same page? Kind'a? Reviews, PMs, they are all welcomed and encouraged.


	8. Ch 8, The Reveal

a/n: a chuckquinn production

disclaimer: I don't own Chuck.

* * *

_Now_

Chuck opened his eyes, blinking. "Gonna sleep all day, Baby?" Sarah asked him, getting dressed.

"What time is it?" Chuck asked, trying to get the fog out of his brain.

"Time to bring down Amy and the Cartel," Sarah said. Chuck sat up, grinning, and then he caught what she was wearing… or more importantly, what she wasn't.

"So, when this thing is over, I was wondering…" he trailed off, looking away.

"What is it, Chuck," she said, hurrying over to the bed, internally cursing herself for going along with this charade for as long as she had.

He turned to her, reached for her, and she squealed as she allowed him to pull her into bed. Flipping her over him, onto her back, his lips attacked her neck. "I was wondering if we could go to that diner for that piece of pie?"

"Baby, you kiss me there, like that, I'll do anything you want," she said.

Chuck pulled away and looked down at her. "Anything?" he asked bouncing his eyebrows.

"Damn it, we can't be late to work, but this is the last time, I promise," Sarah said, staring into his eyes. His cell phone went off, and so did hers. "Oh, look at that, it may already be over." She reached over and answered it. Chuck ignored his.

"Walker," she said smoothly, with Chuck kissing her neck. Making his way to her collar bone, he deftly removed the bra strap. She swatted at him, but not very hard. "You've got her in holding?" He made his way back up her throat to her chin, and her eyes were crossing. "I have an idea, let her sit and sweat for a bit." He quickly moved to her earlobe and wrapped his lips around the bottom of it. "Hours, Graham, she should sweat for hours. FINE! An hour. We'll be there." She hung up the phone and glared at him. "You have thirty minutes."

"Forty-five," he countered.

"Fine," she said, and pounced.

}o{

The two walked into the office an hour and five minutes later. "I lost the bet," Morgan said as the two came off the elevator. "I have the over on an hour and a half," he said holding his fist out to Chuck. Sarah fist pounded Morgan before Chuck could, and many looked surprised. Morgan grinned at Sarah, and she pulled him into a hug.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Okay, everyone," Graham said, coming out on the floor. "If you haven't figured it out, we've had a sting set up in this office for a while, trying to catch a mole, and we caught her. Now comes the fun part." He turned to Chuck and Sarah. "One more time?"

They turned to each other and grinned. "The final time," Sarah said.

}o{

Amy sat in the chair in holding, irritated. How had someone gotten her messages? She had one chance. She had been cultivating her own asset for a while. The problem was, she had fallen for him, hard. He could save her, but she had to make him believe, and she really thought she could. The door opened, and Sarah made her way in, followed by Chuck, his shoulders slumped. He went to pull out a chair for her, but she did it herself, and sat down quickly before any other chivalrous actions could happen on his part.

"We know, Amy," Sarah said.

"Chuck, tell her, tell her the truth, how we're together and you asked me to go undercover. Tell her how I was setting up the Cartel! Tell her how we feel. Tell her! If you don't, I'll go to jail, and then who will love you?"

Pain flashed in his eyes. "Wait, you have info on the Cartel?" Sarah asked. "Who is in charge?"

"Free him, and I'll tell you," Amy countered. "Otherwise you'll never know." She crossed her arms.

"I don't control him," Sarah began. Amy snorted. "I don't control him," she continued. "But I freely let him make any decision he wants."

"Any?" Chuck asked softly. Sarah glanced at him, the glare on her face apparent to everyone as both Chuck and Amy flinched. Chuck from the glare, Amy for what Chuck was having to go through.

"I refuse to be treated like this anymore," Chuck replied, staring at Sarah.

"I see," Sarah said briskly. She turned to Amy. "Tell us, tell us all of it."

"Augusto Gaez," Amy said softly.

"Wait, doesn't he work at the museum?" Chuck asked, sitting up.

Amy smirked. "I found out he had the first painting stolen from the museum, to cast doubt on them."

"Our first case," Chuck said looking over at Sarah.

"Hrmmph," she grunted.

"Chuck, you have to accept that the two of you are over, you even said you didn't want to be treated like this anymore," Amy said, reaching out to him.

"I did," Chuck replied, twisting his wedding ring around his finger, staring at it.

"Finish," Sarah said waspishly. "Let's have all of it."

"Daniel Shaw feeds Gaez info," Amy began.

"Figures," Chuck muttered. "Looks like Superman, acts like Lex Luthor."

"Wouldn't that be Penguin?" Sarah asked. Chuck whipped his head over to her. "Lex would do the work himself. Penguin always uses goons."

Chuck was silent for a minute, his eyes dancing. Amy looked from Chuck to Sarah, confused. "I mean if you look at it from that angle, you're right."

Sarah slowly turned to Amy, a smirk on her face. "Last part, The Cat. Also, would you say she's more Black Cat, or Catwoman?"

Amy was very confused. "She's the wild card," Amy admitted. "Gaez has no idea who she is, or who's she aligned with."

"No idea?" Sarah asked.

"He thought it was Rizzo," Amy admitted. "I thought it was you." Sarah pointed to herself. "But, Chuck described Agent Miller, who he knows, so that confused all of us, and you two were seen together partying last night when the cat attacked."

"Catwoman," Chuck said quietly. Sarah turned toward him. "I'd say Catwoman."

"Do go on," Sarah practically purred.

"Well, it's more because of her man," Chuck admitted.

Sarah got up, and pulled Chuck's chair, with him in it, out from under the desk. She dropped herself into his lap. "What are you doing?" Amy asked, panicking.

"See, Peter Parker couldn't let Black Cat do that, and he has a thing for Mary Jane, and you _knooooooow_ Carina."

"She always has to be the redhead," Sarah replied, running her fingers down Chuck's face, watching him shudder.

"What are you two doing?" Amy asked, her voice very small, near the verge of tears.

"So that means that someone has to be Batman in this instance," Chuck continued.

"Who could that be," she said tapping her lip like she was thinking. "I mean whoever it was, would need a Robin."

"No," Amy said softly.

"And comic relief opponents," Sarah continued.

"Jeffster fits that bill," Chuck replied.

"No, this can't… this isn't… no," Amy muttered, not believing, but beginning to realize.

"But Batman can't be in plain sight," Chuck said.

"That's true," Sarah agreed, scooting closer to him in his lap. "Where on Earth could Batman hide in plain sight?"

"Matches Malone?" Chuck asked.

"Sorry, baby, you're not that gangster," Sarah said with a slight pout.

"That's just freaking adorable," Chuck said, tracing his finger over her lower lip.

"But you could be Bruce Wayne," Sarah suggested. Chuck looked over at Amy.

"She never had a chance, did she?"

"Nope," Sarah replied, and kissed him like she was claiming him.

In the observation room, Morgan nodded, happily.

"We're sending agents to arrest everyone now," Graham said to Morgan. "It's over."

"Great," Morgan said, barely paying attention.

"Aren't you happy?" Graham asked.

"Oh, yeah, sure," Morgan answered. He felt Graham staring at him and turned to him. "What?"

"You seem preoccupied," Graham explained.

"HE CALLED ME ROBIN!" Morgan exclaimed.

"He… you know what, I'm just gonna let you have this," Graham said, turning and heading for the door.

* * *

A/N: I thought I had posted this. I'm so sorry for it to have not been posted already. I'm not sure what else to do with this one, maybe they can have another fic in the future. I'd need a semblance of a plot. Why do I kinda think you don't care if it has a plot or not? Thanks for reading, reviews are awesome.

DC Chuckquinn


End file.
